Gold Dust
by Alabaster86
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, a time for reflection and memories; Mai, Zuko and their daughter Izumi celebrate.


**Gold Dust**

"Izumi loved these when she was little."

Fird Lord Zuko rested his hands on the balcony and gazed upward. A myriad of colours dappled the midnight sky and the resounding bang of the fireworks reverberated in his chest. Mai rested a hand on his arm before stroking gently.

"She _did._ But Izumi's a teenager and, well..."

"Hmph, yeah, I recall teenage you, and fireworks would not have impressed."

"Too bright, too loud, too...happy," Mai snickered.

"Too ORANGE."

They both laughed now, Zuko putting an arm around Mai and pulling her close. She burrowed into his body, enjoying the smell and feel, things she never tired of.

"I miss her being liitle." The Fire Lord's tone was suddenly melancholy.

"I know."

"I miss Iroh."

This time his voice quavered and Mai knew without looking that his eyes were damp with tears. He'd always been emotional, mercurially so. It fascinated Mai, how expressive his face was, how rage, joy, sorrow could take hold of his features, his stance, radiating off him so powerfully. It could overwhelm her too, the sheer intensity of him.

More open than years ago, Mai still kept her feelings and thoughts close. She preferred it that way. What was once a survival mechanism had become ingrained, part of her very fabric. Mai seriously doubted she could change that, no matter incentive or threat.

She lifted her head, met her husband's eyes before whispering, "We all miss Iroh." But Mai realized Zuko felt the anguish of his uncle's loss more keenly. Theirs was a bond forged under adversity, the father/son relationship that should have been with Ozai, _had_ been with Lu Ten. Iroh stuck by Zuko when he was nothing but rage and pain, frighteningly driven and often cruel. He'd witnessed Zuko's worst, given love and guidance and was eventually rewarded with his surrogate son's growth. He _was_ Zuko's father. And Iroh's absence left a hole that could never be filled.

Zuko nodded before placing a kiss on Mai's head. "I'm selfish," he began. "I hate the part of me that wished Iroh had hung on a bit longer, even a few days, just so I could talk to him more, sit with him." The Fire Lord took a deep, shuddering breath. "I wanted him to see Izumi grow up, be there for her wedding."

" _If_ she gets married," Mai admonished reflexively. "Maybe she won't."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do" She paused for a moment.. "Iroh, he was suffering. And he got to see so much over the years."

"Remember how happy he was when Izumi made her first fire; the way his eyes shone, that grin nothing could wipe off his face."

"That was a good day," Mai agreed.

Her mind floated back.

* * *

They'd been visiting Iroh in Ba Sing Se. His tea shop was a second home, a place where they could truly relax and forget about royal duties temporarily. Izumi adored her great uncle, adored the sprawling metropolis and adored the tea shop. She was determined like her father and wanted to be a firebender like him and Iroh. There were no guarantees that firebending flowed in her veins. Mai was not a bender, after all, though fierce in her own right.

Izumi already knew many of the moves that accompanied firebending. She often watched her father train and absorbed as only the young can. Clumsy at first, the little girl practiced on her own time, sneaking off to find deserted parts of the palace, working until exhausted. Mai or Zuko or the nanny often found her, after much frustrated searching, curled up asleep under some old desk or behind a couch.

"I still can't make fire," Izumi wailed that brisk autumn day at the Jasmine Dragon.

The six year old stomped one foot and crossed her arms. She looked very much like a tiny Zuko at that moment, full of uncontained exasperation and anger. Mai clasped a hand over her lips, suppressing the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You will when you're ready," Mai soothed, not wanting to say right then that Izumi might not be a bender.

"I wanna be ready _now_."

"Hard to argue with that," Zuko added, hiding his own grin.

"I'll tell you something that I told your father years ago, little one." Iroh stepped forward, stroking his long grey beard, amber eyes serious. "Patience is invaluable."

"What does that mean?"

Iroh's voice calmed Izumi and she scooted over to her great uncle, gaze curious. She cuddled up to the old man, her parents forgotten temporarily.

"Well, sometimes things take awhile to happen and we have to wait."

"But waiting's hard, like when cookies take forever to bake."

Iroh chuckled. "I agree with you there, Izumi. But when they are ready and they're warm and delicious, isn't the wait worth it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then when your fire decides to show itself, you'll be ready and you'll forget all that waiting. And if it doesn't..." Iroh paused, putting an arm about the girl, "...you'll be ready for something else, like your mother and Sokka and Suki. There is a place for you in the world no matter what. Fire or no fire, you are Izumi, daughter of Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Mai, two of the finest, fiercest people I know."

The little girl's face scrunched up in concentration as she processed Iroh's words. "I get it," she finally said and ambled off to practice some more.

Self-imposed pressure gone, Izumi relaxed and later that day produced a weak flame. Joy filled her up and spread to Iroh who let out a whoop and scooped her into his arms. "Well done," he whispered and Izumi beamed. "It's your determination I'm most proud of."

Mai and Zuko stood back, allowing Iroh his moment with Izumi. There would be time later for their own congratulations.

It was a good day.

* * *

Izumi hovered in the doorway. She could see her parents on the balcony, arms snaked about each other, watching the final bursts of colour light up the night.

"Geez," she drawled, approaching surreptitiously. "You really can't keep your hands off each other."

Her parents turned at the sound of her voice, surprise and delight warring on both their faces.

"You came." Father had a penchant for the obvious.

"Laaate, but glad to see you." Mother's gravelly purr was _hers_ too.

"The party was boring." Izumi shrugged. "The people were boring." She smirked then, gesturing toward the sky. " _This_ is boring too, but...you know, it's tradition."

What she really wanted to say but couldn't quite make herself, was that her time at the party, filled with jaded teenagers, had been spent thinking of her parents eating their New Year's Eve dinner and watching the fireworks without her. She'd felt achy inside and then suddenly, more than anything, she'd wanted to go home. So she did.

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Good thing they're over, Izumi."

"Any food left?" She felt famished suddenly. "We could sit and eat, and...talk and stuff."

"Yeah, plenty and that sounds good, right, Zuko?"

"It does,' he agreed with a huge smile. "I love spending time with my girls."

Izumi wormed her way between her parents, guiding them to the table, enjoying the closeness. "It's gonna be a good night after all," she whispered to herself.

* * *

Years later, when she was grown, Izumi looked back on that New Year's celebration with fondness. After her parents died, pain accompanied the memory. More years, and the pain dulled and dulled until it evaporated completely, and Izumi was filled only with the realization of how fortunate she'd been.


End file.
